Dega Je...

Life goes on in Port au Prince. They have a saying here... Dega Je "make it happen". We understand it a little more every day. It is how this place survives.

People are afraid to sleep inside, so they sleep outside even if their house is still standing. If their house has 'fallen down', they sleep on the street.

At first glance, food seems to be everywhere, but it is not available. Food is along all the sidewalks for sale by vendors... fruit, bread and even medicine. The food distribution lines are all around the city and peace is kept by the presence of the US Marines, the Canadian military the UN. But people are hungry. Many of the patients we saw today have not eaten or have eaten rice once a day. Clean water is not easily available, or not available at all. The people that have come to us are suffering on many, many levels.

Everyone has lost someone, and most have lost everything.

Since starting our new clinic at BelAire on Monday, we have already bonded with the community and feel like this is where we should be, partnering with the church, to be the church to the community. Good stuff. This is where the permanent site for the H2HI clinic will be located and the neigborhood is starved for the care. I asked some of the men in the church to hang the H2HI banner on the front of the church yesterday and they scurried up the stairs to get it up with huge smiles on their faces.

Tuesday Paul, Joey and I saw about 100 patients in about 5 hours at BelAire, and today Joey and I saw 80 patients in 7.5 hours. We were our own pharmacists and spent a special few minutes with each patient. All our patients know they are loved.

The most common chief complaints are diarrhea, vomiting, headache, itching and pain. I have heard my translator say many, many times "She is having pain in her back because she fell down in her house during the earthquake, then her house fell down".

When I ask about the family, I have heard my translator say too many times "Her husband is died" or "Her parents is died". All I can say is "I am sorry". They look me in the eye and I look back and I hold their gaze... long enough for me say with my eyes.... my heart is breaking for you. I touch every patient gently during my exam and hold their hand and pat them on the leg or the shoulder and with every touch, I want to be sure to say... you are loved.

Joey and I worked in tandem today seeing patients and dispensing meds. We started at 9am and decided at 3pm to take a quick break. A man had come by early this morning to ask if I would come to his house to see his wife. I promised I would, so once we decided to take a 15 minute break, we ventured out into the neighborhood to make a house call. The house was just down the street from the church and we found his wife just inside the front door. Her name is Sandy. She fractured her left femur during the earthquake (1/12/10), and had surgery on January 25th. She was not in the hospital until the day of her surgery, and suffered with a femur fracture for 13 days until they screwed her femur back together and applied the external fixation device. Today, she is laying 10 feet from the street in the middle of Port au Prince, next to an open doorway in the lower front room of her house. She is on the bottom story of a large concrete building with an external fixator on her left femur. She has a beautiful smile and a lovely spirit. Her husband wanted me to check her and change her catheter. That is all, just check her. She is doing so well and her family is taking very good care of her. Joey and I changed her catheter as her little 3 year-old son Mike, stood close by and watched us intently. We all held hands and prayed around her bed before we left. It was so very special and one of those things that can only happen when you are right in the middle of something God is doing.

One of my patients today came in bleeding and holding his wrist. He had a large laceration and needed sutures. Once I got him into the clinic and began to suture his wound I was able to ask a few questions. His name is Snider. He is 19. His parents and grandparents died in the quake. He has been on the street, alone since January 12th. He has not eaten in 2 days.
I have a 19 year old son and it is so painful to think of Kaleb alone on the streets of Port au Prince for the last 29 days with no where to go and no one to help him. Snider is out there tonight. I want to be his mom. I want to be the mom to so many kids I have seen is Haiti.

I have seen the same very elderly little old man on the street outside the church every day. He walked up to me when we were leaving today and held his hand out to me. I leaned forward and whispered in his ear "Jesus loves you". I am sure he did not know what I said, but the men from the church yelled at him to leave me alone. He was talking and talking and when I asked one of the men what he said he replied "He said if he does not die out here tonight he will see you tomorrow". I said, I will see you tomorrow.

Tomorrow is already Thursday. As much as we love and miss our families, we are not ready to come home. There is a massive amount of work to be done here and we want to do it.

Lord, work out your will for Haiti... and use us please.